


i've got troubled thoughts and the self-esteem to match

by CuboneGirl13



Series: tarnished [9]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Freeverse, Minor Character Death, POV Second Person, Poetry, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-05
Updated: 2014-06-05
Packaged: 2018-02-03 13:11:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1745858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuboneGirl13/pseuds/CuboneGirl13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>shiny.<br/>that's all that's running through your head.<br/>shiny<br/>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i've got troubled thoughts and the self-esteem to match

**Author's Note:**

> So, this one took a long time, and, to be honest, it took a lot out of me. I'm a little hesitant to post, because it's such a sensitive subject, but hey. Might as well post, I spent forever on it!  
> It IS about self-harm (specifically cutting), suicidal thoughts, and the insecurities that come from being the middle child, so if you have issues with any of those things, or if they're triggering, turn back now!
> 
> Title from "What a Catch, Donnie" by Fall Out Boy.
> 
> Disclaimer: Don't own the characters or the universe.
> 
> *Spoiler-y trigger warnings at the end*

shiny.  
that's all that's running through your head.  
shiny  
.  
you're ten  
the first time you think of it.  
you've heard about it before,  
but  
you never really dwelt on it.  
not until  
your sister gets her prefect badge  
and  
everyone's asking how long until you get yours,  
and  
you know it's a joke  
but  
you're sick of the comparisons  
and  
now you're sitting there  
staring at your father's razor  
and  
you wonder  
if it would help the anger  
and pain  
and inferiority  
so  
you see if it does  
.  
you're eleven  
and you start at Beauxbatons a little late,  
but they still take you  
and you take the blade with you  
and think  
that your father will never notice it's gone  
.  
you're twelve  
(and a half)  
the first time anyone notices.  
one of your teachers sees your sleeve slide up  
and  
you push it back down  
as fast as you can,  
but  
she grabs your wrist  
and stares  
and asks what happened.  
you say your roommate's cat scratched you  
and  
you're not sure she believes you  
but  
she lets it go  
.  
you're thirteen,  
["a woman at last," your mother jokes when you tell her you're bleeding]  
and  
you've switch from your wrist to your thighs  
and  
no one but your brother asks why you only wear long sleeves,  
even during summer,  
and  
you tell him that you're insecure about your arms  
so  
he lets it go.  
you retreat to your room when you're asked about your love life.  
after all,  
Victoire's already engaged,  
so where's your boyfriend?  
you start unpacking,  
looking for your _precious_ ,  
as you've taken to calling it,  
when  
you hear a knock at the door,  
and you can't very well do anything with a visitor present,  
so you go to tell whoever it is to go away,  
but  
you open the door  
and   
it's your cousins' little blond friend,  
the Gryffindor Malfoy whose first name you can't remember,  
and he mumbles his way through a summons to lunch  
and scurries away,  
so you sigh  
and follow him downstairs  
.  
you're fourteen  
when you finally get a boyfriend.  
you're ecstatic  
because he's a year older than you  
and he's tall  
and smart  
and handsome,  
but  
it's only for the summer  
because he lives down the street from you,  
and he goes to Hogwarts  
so  
you know it won't last,  
especially  
when he sees your wrists  
and thighs  
and  
he's horrified  
so  
he dumps you after a month and a half.  
he says he can't be with someone like _that_ ,  
whatever that means,  
but  
all you hear  
is "you're not good enough"  
.  
you're fifteen  
the first time you feel the urge to do **more** ,  
the first time you wonder if it's worth it  
and  
you're fifteen the first time you push those poisonous thoughts out of your head,  
it's also the first time you meet anyone like you.  
she's sixteen,  
but she's in your Astronomy class,  
and  
you wonder if that's how you look to others.  
downtrodden  
and weary  
and suspicious  
but  
you don't really want to dwell on that,  
on her,  
on you,  
so  
you let it go  
.  
when you're sixteen,  
you think about telling your family,  
but then  
you see your sister  
with _her_ little family  
and  
your parents fawn over the new baby  
and  
your brother is finally thriving in his own little niche,  
so  
you  
let  
it  
go  
.  
the same year,  
your parents pull you out of school  
after the girl in your class  
bleeds out in the third floor bathroom  
and   
your mother is appalled,  
in disbelief that her alma mater is anything but perfect  
and  
you think you're just going to be ignored  
again  
but  
your brother brings up your sleeves,  
and  
your dad is a bit less accepting of your hasty excuses  
and dismissals  
and   
you're sixteen  
when  
your father pushes up one of your sleeves   
and   
you feel your world crashing down around you  
and  
your mother stops ranting  
and starts staring  
and crying  
but  
your father  
is silent  
.  
you're seventeen  
when you start at Hogwarts,  
because for some reason,  
your parents think your darling cousins will be a good influence,  
but you're sure  
their presence will merely be stifling.  
you're hastily and privately sorted,  
and  
you pray for anything but Gryffindor,  
but  
you feel like it's just one big "screw you" from the universe  
when the Hat puts you there anyway  
.  
you're the first student there,  
so  
you go to your new home away from home  
and unpack  
and  
you know you're alone,  
that your classmates won't arrive for a couple hours,  
that the staff is too busy to bother your,  
but  
you still stare at the little box in your trunk,  
the one you had to sneak past your parents,  
the one you don't dare to open  
because  
you know yourself,  
but  
you're not quite sure what you'll do,  
how far you'll go  
when you see  
*shiny*  
pretty  
sharp  
metal  
when you're this stressed.  
so  
you just shut your trunk  
and sit on your bed  
and stare at the wall  
.  
you're seventeen  
and  
you wonder why the hell you're stuck here  
because  
even your parents can really be deluded enough to think being pulled away from your friends will help.  
but  
you can't do anything about it now  
except  
you can  
and  
again  
you try to eliminate those thought,  
but  
you can't  
.  
you just try to get though the year,  
a day at a time,  
but  
your cousins aren't too happy with you  
and   
your brother has his own friends  
that he doesn't want to share  
so  
you have a lot of quality time with your best friend  
{also known as your father's old razor you stole when you were ten}  
and you try not to giggle the first time you mentally refer to it as that  
and you study  
and you do well in classes  
(but not as well as your sister did)  
and try to fly under everyone's radars  
and  
you're seventeen  
and  
you spend most moments alone  
crying  
or  
cutting  
and  
you know it shouldn't be like this,  
 _you_ shouldn't be like this,  
but  
you don't know how to be any other way.  
so  
you cry yourself to sleep for the third night in a row  
and hope for a better day  
(and maybe wish a tiny bit that tomorrow never comes)  
.  
spoiler alert:  
/tomorrow comes/  
but  
you can bear it  
and  
you notice how beautiful Scorpius' smile is,  
[you're quite proud you finally learned his name]  
 _especially when it's directed towards you_ ,  
and  
as you grip your razor,  
you start to think that this isn't as bad as you thought,  
and you put it down  
.  
you're eighteen,  
and  
it feels wonderful,  
liking someone who seems to like you back,  
{even if he **is** the object of your baby cousin's affections}  
so  
you flirt  
and  
you feel just a tiny bit of remorse when he asks you to go to Hogsmeade with him  
and you see Rose's face,  
but  
not enough to keep you from accepting  
.  
you're quite thankful that it's cold enough to reasonably keep your arms and legs covered,  
because you really,  
 _really_  
don't want to scare him away.  
you spend an hour getting ready to meet him at breakfast,  
and  
you know it's a bit shallow,  
but  
you preen a bit when you notice appreciative glances as you walk to the Great Hall,  
and you try to dodge your cousin's death glares when Scorp kisses you on the cheek.  
and,   
for once,  
you're happy,  
so you push her out of your mind  
,  
when you get back to you dorm,  
you're positively giddy,  
because you're now Scorpius' _girlfriend_ ,  
and for once,  
you go to bed without thinking about the blade hidden in your dresser  
and without the urge to cry  
and  
you're almost happy your parents sent you here.  
almost  
.  
before you know it,  
Christmas rolls 'round,  
and Scorp comes to you family Christmas as your boyfriend  
instead of as your cousins' friend,  
and  
your parent love him,  
he gets along fabulously with your brother's boyfriend,  
Teddy jokes around with him like an old pal,   
(and you think he may have given him the shovel talk)  
and  
he still fits right in,  
even if Auntie Mione is glaring daggers at the both of you  
.  
you don't see him for the rest of the holiday,  
so you're left to deal with your mother gushing about how polite he was  
and how good of an influence he is  
and with Louis' giggling at your msery,  
so you can't be blamed for tackle-hugging him at the train station.  
you notice he's not as enthused to see you,  
but  
you don't want to to think about that at the moment  
.  
he breaks up with you a week after New Year's.  
for the first time in three months,  
you cut,  
and you cut deep,  
and as you watch the blood pool on top of your thigh,  
you realize  
you're not sure you want to graduate  
.  
you patch yourself up,  
but  
when one of your roommates asks about the dried blood on the floor,  
you realize  
you didn't clean up after yourself,  
and  
you panic  
until  
another girl jokes about you "time of the month"  
and   
you smile  
and laugh  
and feel the weight lift off your chest  
and  
you start breathing again  
.  
the first week of March,  
Scorp  
[your golden boy, he'll always be your boy]  
and Rose  
start going out  
and  
your world crumbles more and more every day  
and  
you make even more of a mess of you thighs  
and your upper arms  
and you stomach  
and  
you're eighteen  
and  
you don't want to live  
.  
within a week,  
he tells her he loves her  
and  
you still remember hearing him say it to you,  
and  
it's too much,  
so  
you run  
crying  
into your dorm room  
and  
dig out your razor  
and  
lock yourself in your bathroom  
and  
you haven't cut your wrists in a while,  
the scars there faded to white,  
the skin turned shiny,  
and  
that's all that's running through your head.  
shiny.  
shiny scars.  
shiny blade.  
and   
you know a bit about anatomy,  
and  
you know  
that those cuts could have killed you,  
so  
this time,  
you hope they do  
.

**Author's Note:**

> *Cutting, suicidal thoughts, attempted suicide*


End file.
